


Turnabout

by Kay (sincere)



Series: A Backwards Courtship [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cultural Differences, Falling In Love, Fantastic Racism, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Pregnancy, Relationship Negotiation, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincere/pseuds/Kay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor needs to make sure that Loki understands how much their child means to him. He tells Loki about his childhood... and, much to his surprise, learns something about Loki, in return. Perhaps the first thing he has really learned about Loki in all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainfall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainfall/gifts).



> A holiday gift for idk my bff [rainfall](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rainfall/pseuds/rainfall)! Written for the prompt "intimate" at [cottoncandy_bingo](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org).
> 
> This fic takes place in an AU where Loki is rescued as a baby by a frost giant, instead of by Odin. Contains pregnancy, and discussion of infanticide and miscarriage.

"What do you think it will be?" Thor had asked him, leaning against Loki's side, hand on the Jotun's still-flat stomach.

There had been a brief pause, which he easily dismissed as consideration until Loki said, "Oh, you mean, male or female? Male, of course." He had sounded amused, but then in another heartbeat he mused, "I suppose... There is a chance the child could be female, now that you mention it. Probably a small chance. If that is the case, I can kill it and we can try again."

He had sounded almost casual, but Thor had shot upright in the bed, staring at him in the darkness in horror. "What-- No! Do not even think it! Why would you suggest such an act?!"

"Well, _my_ people have no interest in a female child. I thought yours would have none, either. Cannot only male children inherit the throne?"

The memory of those words lingered in his mind even now, weeks later, long after Loki had announced that the child's sex was male. He heard them again in his mind whenever it wandered from the pressing affairs that people brought to him, the conferences and councils that he held to organize the daily running of the realm.

His callous queen. Words that he would have thought with some fondness, before that callousness had been turned upon the child they had conceived. Did it mean so little to Loki, the life they had created, that it could be ended solely because it was not to be king of Asgard someday... Was that Loki's only interest, birthing a child who could be put into power in Asgard? Or did he simply not care for a child who could not adhere to his standards? Would Loki feel that they should kill their son if he was born with a lame leg or without hearing -- or if he had no sensory markings on his skin, or if he were born with pale skin instead of blue?

But inevitably, whenever he went to bring these concerns to Loki, they fell away. He entered Loki's chamber, where the Jotun spent more and more of his time now, and found his queen asleep in his nest, cheek tucked against the raised edge of it, a book folded over his fingers. He was not even covered, and Thor thought affectionately that he could not be comfortable, nor sleep well, in such a state.

He drifted closer, taking the book gently from Loki's grasp. Loki made a dim noise, protesting, but he was already awake -- probably from the moment Thor stepped silently into the room, disturbing the air.

"If you are tired, you should get more rest," Thor chided him, smiling in spite of himself. "Do not attempt stoicism until you pass out on your face."

Loki turned onto his back, his eyes lidded and a dark, carnelian red with his lingering sleep. "I am _resting_ well," he disagreed. "If you manage to gestate life from nothing to infancy without any weariness, do let me know. It is exhausting."

Thor chuckled, easing onto the mattress beside him. "Then I apologize for disturbing your nap. I only wanted to see to it that you were covered, so that you did not wake at the first stirring of air."

A simple enough statement, though it seemed to surprise Loki somewhat: he was still, watching Thor, something uncertain and searching in his expression. Then he made a noise, reaching out to find Thor's wrist and tug. "So thoughtful," he said lightly. "Have you any more work to see to this day?"

"None so pressing," Thor said. He slid into the nest, nudging Loki onto his side and curling against his back , drawing the heavy quilt over them. He nuzzled the back of Loki's neck.

Loki made a humming sound of pleasure, but warned, "If you are hoping that I will be insatiable and wanton with hormones -- the way I was _yesterday_ \-- you are to be disappointed. I have quite the headache and I don't care to move."

There was a small part of him that was disappointed -- yesterday had been _quite_ pleasant, after all -- but Thor promised the back of his neck, "I am happy to provide you with whatever you need, no matter what that may be."

And honestly, although it was strange to admit it, even to himself, he was happy. Even if all Loki wanted him to do was provide body heat... His hand skimmed over the Jotun's rounding stomach. That was a rare enough task. Loki was not normally one for meaningless sentimental embraces and sweet words; he usually complained bitterly that Thor's tender moments were too hot or too stifling or too foolish for his tastes. But like this -- with Loki worn and emotional from the changes his body wrought around the child, he seemed more content to suffer his husband's hold.

"I think I know what it is that actually makes you happy," Loki said, his eyes closed. His blue lips were curved up at the edges. "This child! You have been half floating ever since I felt its life."

Though he knew the child was male, still he said 'it'. Thor's hand stroked over the rough blue skin, slow. "Are you -- not happy about it?" he asked, quiet.

Loki let out a breath. "Why ask such a thing? I have not complained, have I?"

Hardly at all. In almost two months, aside from a few jesting comments about how Thor's child was making him sick, or how Thor's child demanded pudding, or how Thor's child tired him out, he had said scarcely a word of displeasure, and never anything truly aggravated with his state.

Thor pressed his lips again to the back of Loki's neck, and murmured against his spine, " _He_."

The little frost giant paused, and then husked a quiet laugh. "Your people are so unlucky in childbirth. A mated pair of Aesir may take decades to conceive a child. Your females have only an acceptable track record when it comes to carrying infants to term. I thought you would be hesitant to get your hopes up before the child was well along and healthy."

It was not an unfair critique. "Perhaps that is why I insist on making it seem more real," Thor admitted. "But you know that -- for that reason, children are precious to us. They are few and far between. If I put great hopes on a life only two months conceived, it is because for me, that life seems a great blessing."

He hoped fervently that those words were better than the questions that had haunted him ever since Loki asked him if he would wish to kill a female child. Those were questions he could never say aloud: hurtful even to consider, much less to actually address. If Loki truly were so callous, then Thor would have to live with the knowledge that his queen could murder their children without a second thought; if Loki were not, surely he would find the mere wondering offensive.

If he could not ask, then at the least he could make his own feelings clear, so that Loki knew what this meant to him. At the time, he had been shocked, sputtering at first and then falling into silence and then allowing the topic to be changed. But he thought perhaps that now he had found a way to let Loki know that he did not care if the child was male or female, blue or pink, strong or sickly. Any child was _his_ child.

Loki made a soft noise, thoughtful, and said nothing for a long beat. "...Tell me about your youth. Tell me -- what it is like, for a child to grow up in such a world."

The request caught him off-guard. He had been so caught up in the layers that he had put into his words that he had forgotten about what they meant on the surface, and what thoughts that might stir. Immediately Thor felt foolish for his surprise: of course Loki would be curious about what their son's life would be like. No doubt it was -- literally -- worlds away from the lifestyle he had led on Jotunheim, and he would have difficulty imagining it on his own.

Thor tilted his head back, thinking. "I was very spoiled as a boy."

"You don't _say_?" Loki gasped, mocking wonder evident in his tone.

Thor squeezed his arms tighter around the imp. " _Because_ Asgard's castle sees so few children -- I can count my peers on one hand. Other than Sif, there was only Balder near my age, and so I spent most of my time with them. We trained together, and studied together, but mostly we played about Asgard's gardens and fields and forests, went on adventures, and thought we had all of Yggdrasil at our feet."

They had been good days. He thought about Sif, and suddenly he felt that he had wasted a long, long time thinking on the time when they had been in love, or how hurt he had been when she finally left him, and in doing so he had not been truly _friends_ with her the way he should have been. It was a sad thought, but he rubbed Loki's rounded stomach and told himself that he would make amends.

He continued, thoughtful, "Few people tried to correct or corral my behavior. I think... everyone just believed it would sort itself out on its own as I aged." It had not been entirely unsuccessful; certainly there had been occasions when he had been talked or shamed into wisdom, but those lessons rarely stayed with him, and if anything, he now felt that he had grown more cocky and sure of himself the older he became. It had taken Loki to show him that he did not know all there was to know.

"It was only a few years, and long ago; I do not remember it very well," he admitted. "Aesir age quickly, and then hardly at all, between our natural lifespan and Idunn's golden apples. It took me twenty years to reach adulthood, and then another thousand to become as I am now."

It occurred to him that Jotun did not live so long as Aesir, even those who did not eat Idunn's bounty, in the same moment that it occurred to Loki. The queen rolled onto his back and looked up at Thor, curiously. "Am I to have some of these famed golden apples of yours, or is that -- forbidden?"

Thor chuckled, in spite of himself. "You _have_ had them," he said.

Loki lifted an eyebrow, skeptical. "I should think I'd remember."

"Every day," Thor told him. "In cider, in dessert pastries, in bread, in applesauce..." He laughed again. "We do not eat them only _whole_. They do not bring them to my rooms because I do not eat there, and I imagine they have not brought them to your rooms because they are not meant for your entourage who stay here."

"Stayed," Loki corrected, quiet. "I told you that they would leave when it became summer."

Thor was startled for a beat, and then -- angry. His queen's personal escort, his bodyguard and his manservant, who had followed him from Jotunheim to ensure that he would not be alone here among a foreign people, had simply left him here by himself without ceremony? When he was with _child_?

"Is that what they consider duty to their charge?" he asked, trying to rein in his temper. "It would seem you have been left alone after all, and I had nothing to do with it."

Loki's lips quirked up. "I thought you would be happy to hear that most of the monsters were gone from under your roof," he said, and lifted a hand to stroke Thor's jaw, light.

Thor let out a breath, and then turned his head to kiss Loki's fingers. "They are only monsters because they abandoned you," he murmured. "And you not at all." He meant it.

Loki tapped his lips. "Angrboda will be back before it is my time. But he would be useless to me when it grows hotter than this. I would have to take care of _him_. He is sparing me by leaving." He sounded amused.

Probably he was; probably he laughed at his foolish husband, getting worked up over something that seemed so obvious to him. "Then I suppose I will not hold it against him when he returns," he allowed, and then leaned in, pressing his forehead to Loki's. "--What of your childhood?"

If he had not been so close he might not even have noticed the tiny widening of Loki's eyes, a scant instant before he teased, "Oh, just like yours, really. I went on adventures about the Nine Realms with my many friends and we acted like we owned them. You haven't heard of my great exploits? I am the source of quite a few Vanir plays."

Thor laughed, but he was not dissuaded. " _Tell_ me," he said. "I want to hear it. I told you, didn't I?"

"You don't want to hear it," Loki said mildly. "You have no context for it, nor any interest in the context. You have made no special effort to adjust to the idea that I am from a wholly different species, in a wholly different realm, and that there may be differences in how we live and how you do. You only want to hear me say things that are within your understanding of the world, that make me seem more like you."

The words stung, moreso because Loki so rarely spoke to him that way: when he felt the need to, his were always gentle lessons, often coming from a position of weakness or vulnerability, pleading for understanding -- not this cool wholesale dismissal. Which was why Thor suspected those moments were artifice, designed to upset and manipulate him, and why he suspected _this_ moment was defensive, trying to drive Thor away from learning something about who Loki truly was.

He realized that as much as he had grown accustomed to Loki's quirks and mannerisms, he did not _know_ much of anything about his queen.

"That all sounds like excuses not to tell me," Thor said, quiet. "It seems like you will not share with me the same way that I share _everything_ with you, because you have decided out of hand that I am not interested in truth, only flattery. So stop _flattering_ me and we will see if your low opinion of me is deserved or not."

Loki paused, his red gaze flickering down, studying Thor's tunic with some interest.

Then he murmured, soft and steady, "Raising children is considered a task for the whole community, and so they do not ordinarily have much sense of connection to their biological family, because everyone feeds and shelters and looks after them. They are given few rules, but much is expected of them, and they often spend their days practicing skills they will need as adults, like hunting, or foraging, or ice-shaping, until they they come of age, at forty years old. But children are common, and so one child's life -- or one adult's life -- is not considered terribly significant. After the war, they fell on hard times, as Jotunheim began to melt and break apart without the Casket. And so what was once a strong community bond was undermined by the need for individual survival and self-preservation. No one had the time or the means to look after _every_ child together, when they had difficulty feeding themselves. Perhaps what a Jotun child would experience next year would be very different than what he would have experienced when I was growing up."

Thor listened in silence, swallowing his instinctive reaction to many of those words. It painted a stark picture of a people that had been torn apart by the aftermath of war, and once he would have surged forward with insistences that it was their own fault, that taking the Casket of Ancient Winters had been necessary, that the frost giants had made war upon the mortal realm at no provocation and for no known benefit...

Whether Loki knew those things or not, whether Loki blamed him for what happened, was not important. Loki was telling him this now as a test, to see if he could simply accept the reality of what it had been like to grow up as a Jotun.

Although he had very studiously avoided saying what it was like to grow up as _Loki_. Thor could not help noticing that he had said 'they', not 'we'; he had not experienced any of that, for himself.

And then, all at once, it came together, and Thor thought: _They have no interest in a female child, and so Loki would have killed it._

Why would they have had more use for an undersized child? With Loki's sorcery, he could already feel the life growing within him, but Laufey was no sorcerer. If he had not known, he would have birthed the child... and, even if that child was not killed, he would be an outcast, considered unworthy of the care afforded other children who would one day grow to be warriors and hunters, all expected to take equal share in providing for everyone.

Thor didn't ask. "I am sure it will be easier. But there is some merit to hardship, too," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "If struggling in childhood leads to adults as clever and resourceful and impressive as you, then they should all be grateful." _Grateful you were born this way, and that you lived through those trials._

Loki looked up at him, studying his face, measuring him. Whatever he was searching for, he seemed content with it, because after a long beat he relaxed against Thor's body, tipping his head to rest on the bigger man's shoulder. "Sentimental nonsense, as usual. You will spoil our son, and I will give him no quarter," Loki drawled. "Either he will grow to be a perfect adult, or he will go mad before a decade is out."

He had called the child 'he' instead of 'it'. Whether it was a concession, or whether it was simply that Thor had made him think on their son's future enough that he could no longer distance himself from it, Thor felt a thrill of pleasure go through him, and he laughed. "I think we will manage," he said, confidently.

Loki drifted to sleep in his arms, and Thor stared at the wall beyond his bent head, thinking about how Loki never wanted to be held and never told him anything about himself.

He had never felt closer to him. His heart had never felt more full.


End file.
